Mizushima's Verses
by ShinseiTom
Summary: One of the most enigmatic characters of Utawarerumono, what drove the man named Mizushima during Iceman's time? Why did he break his society's laws to free Iceman and Mikoto? In a story only whispered on the winds of time, here are Mizushima's Verses.
1. Verse 1: Thawing

Utawarerumono – Mizushima's Verses

**Verse 1**

The vote to unfreeze "Iceman," as they called him, had been close. 13 to 12 was the closest margin you could get. But Mizushima had managed to pull some strings, convince a couple more. It wouldn't take much to keep him alive. Food wasn't a problem anymore, and the air and water could be from a natural source for him, instead of their constantly recycled air and water.

They couldn't meet Iceman directly, but holograms and maruta would suffice. Mizushima had volunteered #3510 for that duty. The maruta's relation to him regarding their genetics would be kept secret, and further experiments would be called "health checkups." Once all information about his animate body and especially anything about the incredible mask he wore was found, he would be refrozen. With so many variables at play, that date could be soon, or years into the future. He would not be told either way.

Of course, much of this depended on whether they could speak with him or not. Hopefully, for his sake and theirs, they could talk.

200 years earlier, nobody would even discuss unfreezing Iceman. After all, he was the hope of a future generation of surface-dwelling humans and a valuable research specimen.

How did he get frozen so perfectly? What was the mask he wore? Exactly when did he come from? How did he get into that cave? Many questions were asked. Careful study revealed a few answers, but far too many alluded them. So a plan to take small samples was put forward. And accepted. Five years later, and 10 years after they had found Iceman, the first 25 tiny samples of various tissue were taken and analyzed in various labs.

The maruta, though not called that at the time, were the offspring of one specific lab – Lab 2. The first 10 were created in complete secrecy from the 12 other labs, and from indeed anyone outside of Lab 2. Horrible abominations, the poor people – if they could be called people – were dismantled almost immediately after being born in the artificial wombs.

Their parts studied for years, the research was finally released to the rest of the labs. The results were amazing. Most of even the first 10 could already breathe the air on the surface. Their immune systems could also fight back naturally against most bacteria and viruses on the surface. In essence, their bodies could live on the surface as the humans of old could.

And so, project "MARUTA" was born, with grudging consent from the other labs and people.

"Body temperature nearing 35 degrees Celsius," said the voice over the intercom. Mizushima could see it on his own display, but the vocal announcements were part of custom. Simple checks on the system, even though problems were exceedingly rare.

The only thing worse than just waiting, was the political maneuverings going on in the background as the project neared completion. With his natural disdain of power struggles, he was often used as the "neutral" pawn of all sides. Too intelligent and popular to be thrown away, yet too dangerous to get any higher-level jobs.

Case in point, the unfreezing of Iceman. He was a supporter of unfreezing him. But purely for scientific reasons. The others wished to get their hands on his mask, but their powers canceled out. So once again, he was used as the middle-man and was picked to be the unfreezing overseer and Iceman's warden, basically.

But that was fine with him this time. For this time, he had first access to Iceman, before and over anyone else. He'd be able to directly watch him, and have the added bonus of watching what effect an outside unrestricted 3rd party would have on maruta, with #3510.

Various other things could also be observed, such as the trauma of the missing years and an actual live example of long-term freezing on a human body. No human or maruta had as of yet been frozen successfully in one piece. It was deemed an unimportant science. However, the ability to examine somebody who had been frozen and thawed without having to use any time or resources in his actual freeze and little in being thawed was unique.

So it was fine. If by being a pawn in their game he got free reign with Iceman and all the data he represented, he was satisfied.

"Subject 'Iceman' is showing signs of awakening. Sending in maruta to transfer him out of the liquid warming solution." He watched as 4 various tailed and eared maruta entered the room and lifted the now unfrozen "Iceman" out of the bath and transferred him to a stretcher. Iceman's eyes were opening. That was Mizushima's cue to welcome him.

"Iceman, can you understand?" Mizushima could tell he heard, but he was still affected by the sedatives. Technically, Iceman should still be asleep, but the drugs didn't seem keep him under as long as a normal human. His body was thinning it out at an astonishing rate.

"Iceman, can you understand?" He had to be patient. Ah, he raised an arm. He shouldn't be moving yet, but it was a good sign. Mizushima sighed and tried again.

"Iceman, can you understand?" Iceman nodded his head. He understood. Good. But he was becoming irritated. Probably from the bright lights blinding him. "Don't move, the maruta will take care of you for now." Iceman nodded again, and stopped moving. Mizushima watched as he was carted out of the room by the four female maruta, and touched a button on the holopanel. The view changed to the room prepared for Iceman. It hardly qualified as living quarters, but it would have to do. He watched as iceman was carted in and laid down softly by the maruta. He appeared to be asleep by all sensors, so he shut down the console and sat back in his chair.

Mizushima heaved another sigh. First contact was most likely a success. Thank god he understood English, or at least recognized it. That was good for him and Iceman. Everyone wins.

"Doctor?" said a quiet female voice. A voice he instantly recognized.

"#3510, what is it?"

"Am I to immediately leave to watch over Iceman?"

"Yes. All necessary amenities have already been prepared for your stay. All you need to do is take the elevator to the contaminate level. You will be staying there for an indefinite amount of time. I trust there are no problems."

"No sir," she said meekly. All maruta were raised to be completely subservient and dependent on their masters. #3510 had been his ward to watch over for many years. He treated her well enough. Some of the others saw them as nothing more than slaves and sex-toys, to be used as they wanted.

Not through any thoughts of humane treatment for maruta, though, did he treat her well. Those who furthered those agendas were eventually outcast from the scientific community. No, he treated them for the simple reason that all animals worked best with some amount of positive reinforcement, humans and otherwise.

He knew #3510 viewed him as almost a god. It was... interesting to watch.

"Don't delay in departing. I'll be watching every day, so nothing will happen."

"Yes sir." She lowered her head in a slight bow, and left the room. She looked slightly sad. So there were two things he would be able to watch as she interacted with Iceman: Her reactions to Iceman and her reaction to a long period of absence from his side.

Sublime possibilities.


	2. Verse 2: Secrets of the Mask

**Verse 2**

"And so, we cannot come to any conclusion on Iceman's heritage nor are there any records of him in any of the old databases by his dental, thumbprint, or nDNA records. His heritage is obscured by the odd genetic differences between us and him. They make no sense."

"But, records should exist!" said one member of the council. "Virtually all of that data still exists!"

"Multiple searches revealed nothing. The best we can come up with is that he was intentionally erased. By someone with complete control over the national database he came from. He might have been part of an ultra-classified experiment, but even that seems wrong, as we have most of even that data. Plus, cryogenics was not something actively pursued by the people in power at the time."

"So, what that means is that we know just as much about Iceman as he purports to know about himself. Nothing," the one at the head of the table said. He was the overseer of the scientific labs. "What about the mask he wears?"

"As we already knew from the 200 years of prior experiments, a 1 nanometer thick filament reaches into the brain. From what we can tell, it creates a kind of web of bypasses of his thought processes. It doesn't usually interfere with them directly, but it speeds them up, helps with memory recollection, and allows for increased physical ability past the normal limit created by the brain. This of course includes metabolism, raw physical power, the immune system, you name it, and the bypasses enhance it in some way. Most bypasses have been mapped now, with the total coming close to 1 million"

"What about side effects?" asked Mizushima.

"Well, strictly speaking, none for Iceman. His body can handle the increases due to his differing body structure and genetics." The man presenting the report looked uncomfortable with saying the next part. "However, if directly applied to our body, approximately 24-36 hours of continual use will kill us."

"So it's useless for us?" asked the overseer.

"Not entirely…"

"Well then, how is it to be used by us?" said the large man in front of Mizushima.

He, like everyone here except the overseer, was the top researcher of their own Lab. Mizushima disliked this man. Nikolai was grossly large and unpleasant to all under him, especially to maruta. The maruta feared him, as he often takes them to bed or kills them for the smallest infraction. Mizushima found that detestable. After all, fear is not a pure motivator. It instills a want to stay away or even revenge, leading to lower productivity. Though not perfect, positive reinforcement such as a saying thank you or a treat instills a want to stay closer, and to help often, leading to higher productivity. Indifference was middle ground, and it was the way often taken by the leading scientists.

"While investigating the manufacturing process of the mask, we found that we could make a replica given some rare materials, though not a perfect one. However, with slight modifications, we could change some bypasses to have a lower magnitude of effect and to cut some out altogether, leading to something that could be worn an entire year with minimal side effects to the body."

Many of the 24 began to murmur to each other at that news. Nikolai however, was quiet, as was Mizushima. Nikolai noticed that he wasn't joining in, and smiled sickeningly at him. Mizushima stared back blandly, until Nicolai looked away. He knew what Nikolai was thinking. Let him take it the wrong way, Mizushima didn't care. Mizushima had some interest in the mask, but he didn't believe it was the one-and-only solution to the goal of getting surface side.

However, one thing did get his attention. He knew what time period Iceman came from, and they had no way to make such a mask, so where did it come from?

"Sorry to ask this while everyone is so excited," said Mizushima, quieting the Council. "But when and where was the mask created?"

The man stiffened for a moment, obviously dreading telling the answer. So that meant it had to of been one of the other facilities elsewhere, fairly recently. But how? He also knew that the gas trapped inside with Iceman had to have come from his time period, so they would have had to….

"It never was."

And all hell broke loose.


	3. Verse 3: Number 3510

**Verse 3**

"Hello, Sorry for appearing like this as usual. How are you feeling? Did you remember anything?" Mizushima asked, startling Iceman. He didn't try, but it was always interesting to watch him react.

"No… sorry, Mizushima."

"I see. It would help if you remembered at least something about that mask of ours. Well, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying your memories of yourself are unimportant. I'm just very interested. As a scholar, of course." And as a man who wants to keep his head, Mizushima thought wryly.

Iceman sighed. "I see." He seemed to understand a little of Mizushima's problem instinctively.

He noticed that #3510 was still there, and he wondered what Iceman thought of her. She was Iceman's only tactile contact with another person besides the occasional maintenance maruta.

"By the way… #3510 is pretty hand, right? Or is she a burden?"

"Of course she's not a burden. She's a great help." Iceman answered immediately. Hmm, an expected response. Though #3510's blush wasn't exactly expected. "But… why do you call her a number instead of a name? Isn't it awkward?"

Another expected question. "That can't be helped. We aren't allowed to give names to maruta. Those are the rules." Dehumanizing rules, yes, but rules that had worked for a long time. A very long time.

"What an unpleasant set of rules." Still expected. Everything was expected or within the realm of speculation. It hurt. He understood the reasons why Iceman would say so, and even agreed, yet...

"It may be distasteful, but please put up with it. We have rules for reasons." Reasons, yes, but where are those reasons today. The last attack by maruta was close to 150 years ago. And that was before the process of maruta creation was finally set in stone.

Iceman was obviously downcast. For someone who needed human contact, names were precious. After all, without them people are ideas. Egos don't exist without a name. #3510 is a label, not a name. A name signifies something that also means something. Without one… but why couldn't Iceman use a name? He wasn't one of them. Technically, by their standards, he wasn't even human. He wasn't bound by our rules.

"Well, I understand how you feel. That's right. If you don't mind, how about you give her a name?"

"Eh…?" #3510 looked amazed. He understood why. No one, no matter what, was to give a maruta specimen a name. It was written in stone, and anyone caught giving a 'pet name' to any maruta was exiled from the scientific community. Forever. It was one of the worst taboos imaginable.

"I can't call her by that name, but it shouldn't be a problem if you do." If he called her by that name once, his fate would be sealed. Wouldn't some people love that.

It seems he interested Iceman. He started thinking about it seriously, right away. A curve ball has been thrown. Where will it end up?

"Well, I will be going. Make sure to give her a good name."

Mizushima turned off the hologram, but kept the audio/video feed going. Normally, he wouldn't do that, as it felt like spying on Iceman. There was a large glass one-way window in his room, but that hadn't been used since the beginnings of the facility. Privacy was one thing Iceman did sorta have, though he was always monitored for life-support. But anyway, he was interested in where this would go.

After they finished, Mizushima sat thinking for a while. A name based on her label. So even a number could become a name of worth, of meaning. Iceman was good. He didn't get rid of the old, but at the same time, created an entirely new entity. He made something demeaning have meaning.

Mikoto… huh.


	4. Verse 4: Number 63

**Verse 4**

"I've called this meeting to discuss the measures needed to be taken in regards to #63. The inevitable has happened, and her body is finally failing. Lab #11 has found that in all likelihood, her body will fail within the next year. Anticipating this, they have brought the issue before us, the council…"

Very few of the council were actually here. Mizushima couldn't help but notice the ones missing were all supporters of Nicolai, along with Nicolai himself.

_What a childish way to play the game,_ Mizushima thought. Not that he cared much. He didn't like getting involved the politics, but such a display was really uncalled for.

"All members absent get no comments, nor vote in this matter. They knew before they decided not to come." The council head stated the obvious, but it was a needed formality.

Mizushima immediately spoke up. "One course of action could be to allow #63 to meet Iceman before you choose the next course of action." That was, from his view, the best course of action. It would yield interesting results, and they can still at any time freeze her, as they probably would. But he knew it was futile. They were all much too afraid of her powers to allow that one concession. Besides, though he thought it was the best scientifically, he agreed that so many things could go wrong.

"Noted. Other views."

Dismissed, forgotten that fast. Not even discussed. He expected it, but it still aggravated him. Everyone seemed frightened of the wrong things. They were afraid they were going to lose a research specimen, instead of where those powers came from. And so, they try to control something they don't understand. They had done the equivalent of sealing her in ancient myths, yet still anomalies appeared. It was psychokinesis, telepathy. Things only seen in science-fiction and fantasy. Yet they ignored such things and worried more about whether their 'specimen' was going to expire before they researched everything.

_It was all going to end badly._

Mizushima stopped listening at that point. He knew what was going to be picked: a new cryo-technique of freezing separate parts, developed long before Iceman was unfrozen. I was perfected, unlike the new full-body type, so it was safer for preserving their specimen. Just not the whole.

Things had seemed to have been going downhill ever since Iceman was first found. 200 years ago, people were fairly content living underground. Their past wasn't hidden, like in many old stories. People understood that they would have to wait, that this was their fault. However, at that time, two things happened. Iceman was found, and the surface was announced "recovered." Humankind, though, was deemed unfit to survive on the surface.

Being unfit was anticipated, so slow genetic therapies had been undergone expecting a recover time of around 1500-2000, with help from humans. What had happened was that the surface recovered in a short 600 years. Mother nature truly was amazing, to be able to recover so quick, even with slow help from humans. An explosion of life 100 years before Iceman was found signaled the return of a basic ecological balance. That left Humanity in distress though. Their release from underworld life was denied them by the quick recover. No time was given for humans to be able to adapt and find cures to new pathogens. New ones appeared too fast to catalog. So humanity fell back on its best hope.

The quick fix.

But quick fixes rarely work out. _It was all going to end badly,_ Mizushima thought.

"Mizushima, any other input?" The council looked at him. It was a simple, non-written rule to ask him at the end of every meeting for any last input. Since he was usually the only one who was never on any political side, his thoughts were generally thought to only be scientific. It irritated him though, because his input was always ignored if the meeting was one-sided politically, as today. He shook his head no. He had nothing more to say to these people. If Nicolai's group had been here, maybe it would have worked, since he represented the extreme other side of the argument. But without the balancing factor, his ideas go unheeded.

"Then, beginning at 1700 hours tomorrow, the systematic dis-assembly and freezing of #63 will begin. Lab #11 will prep and be ready for the procedure by 1200 hours, and will standby as Lab #12 moves the specimen. In the event of some catastrophic event happening, deadly force is permitted on any trying to prevent the specimen movement, including the specimen itself. No excuses on failure. Meeting adjourned."

Mizushima's lab, #13, would have nothing to do with the whole process, as they were all working with Iceman. Fine with him. He found this distasteful and unnecessary, to name a few adjectives.

_______________

So why did he find himself in front of #63's restraining cell? After all, while distasteful, and inefficient in the long run, freezing her would still be one correct course of action to take. Why did he feel so disturbed then? What about this wasn't right?

#63 was blindfolded, strapped to a human-shaped table at a 45 degree angle. It would be flat, but her large black wings would get crushed otherwise. Her arms and legs were spread open, and she was naked. Today, nothing but one small needle was stuck into her, but usually multitudes of needles and tubes were stuck into her, constantly testing and measuring various things. He had been here a few times in the past before Iceman, on research, and knew of her powers. Her straps were the densest metal created by man, and were nearly 50 cm thick, completely covering the ends of her limbs below the wrists and ankles. The rest of her body was strapped down with less thick 10cm bands over her neck, chest, and waist. Her blindfold was a form-fitted visor that constantly showed some image or another, at the researcher's whim. It was how they communicated visually. They had a modified holo-projector that displayed inside the little world that she saw. Food was administered remotely, and exercise was forced movement of the limbs.

All-in-all, a pitiful existence.

Mizushima turned on the speakers to talk. "Good afternoon, #63, how are you doing today?"

"Ah, Mizushima is here today! Are you here to ask questions again?" came the scarily innocent voice.

Mizushima turned off the recorder. He didn't want the next part to be heard by anyone else. "Did you know your father is awake?"

"Father is finally awake?"

Why was he doing this? It seemed so, cruel. "Yes, for a little while."

"Where, where?!"

He shouldn't be doing this. "Here, I can let you see him. But only a little bit, ok? If you're a good girl, maybe more later." Mizushima changed her view from the generic view of a drab room, to Iceman's room. Iceman was awake and reading from the computer in his room.

"Father…" sighed the chained woman/girl. "#63 was old, much much older than him, but still her voice remained childish. It was a young voice, and a young body also. Once of her wonders that was researched endlessly, along with her telekinetic/telepathic powers straight out of fantasy.

But, like all biological systems, her body had a lifespan. Hers was nearing its limit. Though young in looks, her internals were weakening. So she was to be piecemealed and frozen for future generations. It was scientifically the best thing to do, next to letting her directly meet Iceman, but since that would never happen due to their fear of that meeting, this was best.

Those powers, though, must be traced back to Iceman. His genes were what allowed the maruta combinations to work. Straight splicing never worked, but somehow, with Iceman's genetic influence, it evened out to viable. Why? Nobody knew yet. Various theories abounded, but maybe humans would never know. Mizushima didn't care too much though. Those powers were outside of his line of work with Iceman and the base maruta series. Maybe outside the line of work of…

"BEEP!!!" His holo-pad was blaring a warning. Intruder in the com controls? Why in the com controls? And… opening Iceman's room? What the hell? Who was trying to force their way through to there? And so blatantly? His warning turned off abruptly, signaling the end of the override. Saying he had to go, Mizushima rushed out of #63's holding cell and towards Iceman's control room. The computers were saying nothing was happening, but he couldn't be sure. He opened an audio channel to the room, and listened.

"Thank you…"

Apparently, he only caught the end, and he couldn't tell who it was. Thanking god or whatever that no one had been around, he started up the holo projector.

"Hey, did anything happen? It seemed like something forced its way in here."

Iceman appeared to know what he was talking about, but gave a vague answer. "No, not really."

"I see. Well, it's not a big deal." He wasn't going to push the issue. No harm seemed to of been done. He had left #63 abruptly, shutting down her visor and the speaker into the room. Oh well, she was going to be frozen soon.

Mizushima tried looking for a recording of the message sent over the com channel, but it was as if it really had never happened. Even the warning log had disappeared from the system. Certainly odd, very odd. He couldn't even find any non-networked devices that had recorded vibrations from that room that could have been from the speakers.

Maybe, he thought, it had been a fluke. Or maybe he was thinking too much. Either way, he was tired. This day hadn't been productive. He closed the holo projector, and left the lab. Mizushima made his way back to his "house" through the many hallways. All so artificial, but very few actually thought of it that way.

Thinking again, he opened his door to solitude.


	5. Verse 5: Gods and Men

**Verse 5**

"Men created the gods, not the other way around, and yet even those gods fled in the face of humankind's folly."

"Was that a quote?" asked Iceman. A month had passed, but already he was acclimating to the order of this new world. Well, new world for him.

"The main idea was Greek, but the last part was my own musings. Have you learned yet that the word 'religion,' as used in your time, has all but been discarded?"

Iceman looked surprised at that. "I read that most large organized religions were either left behind or supposedly fulfilled when the surface was destroyed, but…"

"Yes, but even that information is old. The last of the old religions faded away around 100 years ago. Today, the closest we have ethics-groups. They call themselves "religions," but unlike your definition of religion, they have nothing to do with gods or theology. Your Buddhism is about as close to our "religions" as you can get. But Buddhism still affirmed the existence of gods, even if it didn't concern itself with them. Our "religions" don't even do that. They deal with nothing supernatural at all. Only our current natural world."

"So then, does no one believe in God or gods?"

Mizushima sighed. He hadn't really wanted to get into this. And yet, here he was, starting the conversation and explaining it all. He was better with numbers, patterns, the concrete. This talk of gods was tiring. "Maybe, but I think most simply believe they abandoned us. Therefore, they aren't a factor in our lives anymore."

"That's sad." Iceman actually looked a little disappointed. That was interesting.

"We survived without them. Though, it seems like the maruta have an actual religion. We allow it, since it does no harm."

Iceman stared at him. "With all your rules involving maruta, you actually allow them to continue?"

"I'm not the one who allowed it, though I would have too if I had that power. Though unsightly, rules are rules for a reason. Remember that, but also remember you aren't necessarily bound by them as we are. After all, you gave #3510 a name." Mizushima waved his hand and turned off the hologram.

Talk of gods wasn't his cup of tea, to say the least. Especially with someone that was the source of supernatural powers himself.


	6. Verse 6: Humanity Lost

**Verse 6**

"#3510, still here?" Mizushima wasn't that surprised. She spent much more time with Iceman than she had before. It wasn't hard to guess why.

"Ah… y-yes, excuse me!" She blushed before running out. But the main reason he had come…

"Can I ask you something? Who is Mu, I mean, #63?" Iceman shocked him. How? #3510? No, never, she would never do that. The com message? Maybe. But why?

"Where did you hear that?"

Iceman didn't seem to want to answer. Fine. Mizushima really didn't expect him to be able to tell him anyway. Him know anything about her was breaking the rules already.

"Forget her."

Iceman stared, perplexed.

"Pretend you don't know anything. It's for your sake."

"What…?"

"I know you don't understand, but please do this."

He turned off the holo-projection before Iceman could ask anything. Why was he getting so… scared? He wasn't scared of anything, compared to the others. He only pursued pure results. If something fell through, you try again. Emotions don't come into the equation anywhere. So why was he so scared of this? Why did it hurt?

_____________________

"What?!" Mizushima yelled. Ridiculous. How? Why was he yelling at this? It made wonderful sense. They would freeze Iceman again, so he wouldn't degrade like #63 had. Iceman had divulged all the information he could, no one at this time had any idea how to fix his memory, and otherwise his body would eventually fall apart. So even if they had no idea how long he would live, it would be safer to freeze him. Then why did this, once again, scare him?

"Mizushima, did you have something to say?" All on the council were looking at him, fairly shocked. They should be, he was shocked himself at his outburst.

"No, no, that is most likely the correct path to take. I will regret not being able to get more direct information from Iceman, but that pales next to the need to keep him-" NO! No No NO!!! "-as a research specimen for a long time to come." He's a person! That is what is wrong! He was still HUMAN, if just not technically. Why didn't they feel anything when they proposed messing with his life like this? Where did their own humanity go? What the hell went wrong with us?

"Well, if Mizushima has no problems, and all parties agree." The overseer waited for all to nod. "Then this meeting is adjourned. Iceman is to be frozen tomorrow, at 16:00 hours. Same time-frame as #63, only this is to be a full-body freeze. That means you have 16 hours to prepare, before Iceman is put asleep. In 15 hours, Mizushima will lead Iceman to the infirmary and induce sleep through general anesthesia. Until then, Labs 6 and 9 will prepare. Lab 6 will freeze him, Lab 9 will prepare the body for freezing after he is put asleep. Dismissed."

Long after everyone left, Mizushima sat debating. Where did this uncaring attitude come from? If Iceman was asked or even just told, that would be one thing, but none of the others thought it necessary. Hell, even he thought little about it until just a second ago. Iceman had been just another research subject. But, he was human just like Mizushima and the rest, but they didn't do this to other human subjects without full consent from the participants. So why was Iceman different?

Maruta. Mizushima hit the base cause of this lack of care for Iceman's wishes. Mizushima had been with #3510 her whole life. He chose her genes, he supplied her with her number when she was old enough, cared for her. All to watch her, watch the dynamics of the thing called a maruta. But, what had he seen over the years? A human. Absolutely no inferiority to any pure old-style human. Maybe in the beginning of the MARUTA project, that wasn't true. Mizushima couldn't guess what they might have been like in the past. And yet, still they called them by numbers individually, and the dehumanizing maruta collectively. Slaves for science. This isn't the way it should be. Mizushima was scared. The others were already blind to this, his eyes barely saw, and it scared him. His guilt, sorrow at things he did… his conscience cried out against it all at once. He was hurt, scared, tired of all the pain, fear, and anguish he had caused the maruta, and ultimately, he hated playing God on the children of something that may be God. Ha, trying to be god. No human has the right to be god, if there really was such a thing.

They're all too corrupt.

Mizushima decided to do what his conscience decreed for once. So little time, yet so much he had to do. He smiled sadly. The light at the end of the tunnel was approaching, and he would meet it head-on.


	7. Digression

**Digression**

A long time ago, he had been happy.

_Well, that was a sappy way to think about it_. Mizushima thought. But not completely untrue. As he hurried to finish his preparations, he couldn't help but think back on everything that had happened years ago.

Most of those days were blurred sepia memories for him. Mizushima knew that it was his psych covering up, hiding his memories so he didn't have to remember every moment, but it still irritated him.

He had started out at the facility as any normal boy had, schooling in the deep lower levels with the other children, routine rides closer to the surface for checkups and shots, then more schooling. He hadn't been lucky. Or maybe he hadn't fit in quite right. He made few friends throughout grade school, instead burying himself in his studies.

Growing up like that had been harsh. Because of his studious nature, he was picked on a lot.

That didn't change much as he grew older until he became laboratory head. Space was always a constraint, though the lower levels grew larger every day. So there was only one line of schools in his facility. As a kid he heard that the largest of the underground facilities, the one in the old European Alps, had two schools to take care of their huge population.

Mizushima always wished he had a choice.

He was picked out of all the graduates to receive the special 6-month class to work in the labs on the higher floors. He had been ecstatic when he got the message. It was a dream come true for him.

That was where he met her, his wife-to-be. It was definitely not love at first sight. After all, they had completely different viewpoints and backgrounds. Plus, her higher status at the time... well, people are often arrogant to those supposedly below them. He didn't hold it against her.

But he worked his way up. It only took him 3 years and one timely death (not caused by him) to ramp him up to the top of his lab. His genius was a legend among the others. Another legend about him was his impartiality. With his degree in psychology, biology, and classical history (a degree that was discontinued after his graduation), he had a critical eye for everything and treated everyone equal. That irritated the lab heads and delighted all those below. Especially the maruta.

It was what caught the eye of his one love too.

He was always caught up in research, so it took him time to realize that she was always by his side, helping him even when others had long gone asleep or moved on. It was not something he had expected to come from her.

The longer she stayed with him, the more natural it seemed. So he asked her to marry him. She said yes. Simple and natural as that.

It was stressful, but their professionalism kept everything calm and their love constant. They always talked things through if there was a disagreement, just like in the lab. That didn't mean their love was cold, far from it. But they had their way of working through things, and it worked.

The only thing he couldn't have was a child, but that didn't dampen his happiness. When he learned that she was barren, well... he was sad, but that was something outside of her control. Nothing to blame her for or leave her for. Children were not something that was needed in the cramped living spaces of the lower levels. Ironically, considering the size of their population (which was only 25000), children were never in short supply.

By that time, he was 30 years old, and living the best life just about anyone could. But that one day forever changed it all.

One of the things his wife had always loved to do was participate in the few walks on the surface that were conducted annually. He was against it, but he always lost those arguments. Her love of the surface was unparallelled. While others dreamed of living on the surface, she actively tried to get there herself.

The last walk she ever took, she got him to come with her. Laboratory heads never left to go outside, but a slip in the politics between the others allowed him the chance.

What he was through the indirect suit visor, was a green world. Not much different from most pictures he had seen. The world was wide, something that didn't bother him like most of the others. He had the same ability to love openness his wife had.

But only an hour into the walk, her suit grew a leak. It was a death sentence. They had "everything drugs" that killed everything but the body, but they had to be administered within minutes. The damned suit didn't register the rip until it was much too late. The mission aborted immediately, and they trooped back home.

Not in time for her though.

The last thing he heard her say before she was whisked away, was "I'm sorry." I'm sorry for what? No children? He didn't care. Dying? Why would she be sorry for that?

That was the end of his happy days. After that, the only thing he kept to remind himself of her was the master key she always wore, and a picture by his bed. He became even more calculating, cold in his research into attaining the surface. Iceman and the maruta were always central to that research, but he didn't follow the mask-seekers. No, he didn't want something so unnatural as wearing a mask. But he had little help in his search. Almost everyone wanted the mask.

So, he created his own maruta. #3510 in the long line of maruta, one of the first of a new model, the 3500 line. Sickeningly enough, they were created to be omnipresent servants. Genetically subservient and meek (For non w-series. The w-series 3500's were the opposite.), they were at the top of the line. Able to live on the surface without complications and only limited by being naturally infertile.

Though he would have denied it at the time... he loved the little girl like a daughter. He couldn't show it in any way, or else be shunned and banned from the scientific community, but he couldn't help it. #3510 grew up fast in an artificial womb, being born with a 10-year-old's body. Her mind developed fast too, another hallmark of the 3500's. By one year after he picked out her genes, she was following him around helping with whatever he needed.

Maruta weren't allowed below the lab levels, but his living quarters had been transferred to Lab 13 when he became the head so he would always be on hand. That meant he spent all his time with her by his side. The distasteful practice lots of the others had of taking unwilling maruta to bed wasn't something he did, and though he denied it even to himself, she became his daughter. It was something #3510 picked up on, and something she relied on herself. Because of it, she was sheltered from the realities of their servitude by a thick wall.

Not to say she didn't notice it. She saw what went on around her. He watched her pain when a maruta she knew was raped or beat or killed, unable to do anything about it and denying a need to do anything about it.

Iceman's thawing changed it all. She was sent away from his side, and became enamored with another person. #3510's love of Iceman went beyond the love she had for him as a father-figure.

And Iceman had the sensibilities and ability to go around their laws and regulations regarding the treatment of maruta. Iceman was someone who had morals from a different time.

"That should do it..." Mizushima stopped typing. The network virus and remote code execution program were done. Now all he had to do was push a button. Only high-level laboratory assistants and heads had access to the facility intranet, so it had virtually no security past the initial name/password/thumbprint/retinal scan. Once he unleashed this on the closed system, only he would have control of the entire facility until they did a physical crystal dump and reboot.

After that, it would be a losing battle.


	8. Verse 7: The Release of All

**Verse 7**

Thankfully, this facility didn't have a standing military force. Mainly due to their isolation here on the mainland of what was once Japan. Some of the closer-together underground habitats, like the two European ones, had miniature armies. If that had been the case here, well, better not to think about it too hard.

Mizushima didn't have to worry about a bloodbath occurring, just chaos, and that was exactly what he wanted.

He remotely logged into his lab computer so he could have direct access to the system. Mizushima then sent out the recorded message to all the maruta, and opened all high-level restrictions on the elevators to the surface. Then, he turned on the holo-projector to Iceman's room. It was time for one last face-to-hologram.

"Hurry up and escape."

Iceman turned to him, confusion on his face. They had little time, but Mizushima guessed he could explain a little. Besides, #3510 wasn't there yet. Affecting the same sort of dry emotionless voice he used when laying out the facts much like in an experiment, he continued.

"It was just decided in a meeting that you would be refrozen. Tomorrow, they will come here under the pretense of an exam and freeze you. You wouldn't wake up until… maybe never."

"What- what? Why?" Iceman looked ready to punch him. Mizushima wished he could let him.

"We have collected data from you, but research on you will not end. It has been decided that research on you will take time so we need to preserve our precious sample." Mizushima affected a sweet-sounding voice at the end, mocking it and himself.

"Sample…" Iceman was understandably outraged. "What am I, a guinea pig?"

_If you only had a clue, Iceman, how long ago this all began_, Mizushima thought.

"You meant to do this from the beginning! You rescued me from the ice not to save me, but for research – you pretended to have saved me… but you tricked me!" Iceman got louder and louder, so he cut him off. He couldn't afford the luxury of allowing Iceman to continue on like that any longer.

"I do not deny it, nor do I intend to apologize. Hat me to your heart's content if you want. I have temporarily disabled all security. You should escape to the surface while you can. I have also released the maruta. With all this going on, you should be able to escape notice. If you reach the surface, it will be hard to find you." Hopefully impossible, but Mizushima knew better.

"Why are you helping me now? Couldn't you have ended this without me knowing?" Iceman was visibly calming down. That was what Mizushima wanted, but this question touched something deep within himself that he couldn't ignore.

Mizushima sighed. He couldn't take it anymore. "I'm tired. I wonder if you know how much your conscience torments you when you create a sub-species of human. Playing god and pretending what you create isn't human so you can tinker with their brains and organs."

"So… you mean to redeem yourself?" Iceman was still willing to believe in him? Astounding.

"Redemption?" Mizushima rolled that around. "That would be nice… but I'm really just scared."

"Scared?" Obviously not what Iceman expected.

"Yes… I'm scared of getting used to this. Despite all this anguish, you start to get numb to it." Mizushima shivered. "And when will I stop feeling anguish and guilt altogether? That is what I am afraid of…" for then he wouldn't be close to human anymore. That prospect scared him more than anything else in the world. He would be long lost if that happened, much like the others.

"But what will you do? Once people find out, there is only one thing that will happen." Iceman seemed genuinely concerned. This was a human, somebody who cared what he did to others regardless of race of prejudice.

"Don't worry about me. I don't intend on dying that easily." Not easily indeed...

"Won't you come with me?"

"To the surface? What enchanting words…" Mizushima sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that. "I am just a human. I can't live on the surface. I am just a weak, helpless creature."

Iceman remained silent, listening..

"That is why I couldn't ever be in this room. I always thought it must've been unsettling for me never to have actually been there. All those bacteria and things over there are nothing to you, but they are fatal to us. How ironic. Yearning for the earth, we spent an eternity developing ways to renew ourselves. But now we can no longer live anywhere but this greenhouse environment." Mizushima chuckled derisively. "What a joke. In order to stand on the earth again, we need something like spacesuits. You know what dogu pottery figurines look like? It's just like that. Maybe the same thing happened in the past and they told stories of how they had to walk on the earth with those."

"Besides, someone has to stay here and watch security. So, I can't go with you." Mizushima didn't have too much time left. But he still had one last thing he wanted from Iceman. #3510 had entered the room just then, so he thought it was an appropriate time. But what he was asking… people are always so selfish. "I just have one request. Would you hear me out?"

Iceman was suspicious. He should be, after all this. "What is it?"

Mizushima glanced over at #3510. "Can you take her with you?"

Mikoto was surprised. He had told her to get ready to move, and go to Iceman to await further orders. "Doctor?" Iceman was shocked too.

"She is very used to you. She wouldn't be able to bear it without you." How much that hurt to say.

"B-but…"

"Farewell, #3510. you should live for yourself from now on." Mizushima was sad and happy beyond words. He was giving her freedom and a life with the person she obviously loved, but she was still worried about him enough to put up small resistance, which she had never done before. "Mikoto, is it? What a great name. Don't worry. There is nothing to worry about. Take care."

"Doctor…" #3510, no, Mikoto looked sad, yet happy too. Good for her.

"Iceman, please."

"You don't… got it. I will take care of her."

"Thank you." A huge weight lifted from Mizushima's back. It was only one ton out of thousands, but still a relief.

"I have a favor to ask now. I want to take #63 with me."

Mizushima had a feeling this would come up. "#63? Sorry, but that's impossible. That number doesn't exist anymore. Number 63 is a lost number… an abandoned number."

"Abandoned… That can't be, because—" Of course he could talk with her.

"Certainly you are able to communicate with the thoughts of nonexistent things." He was, after all, the human embodiment of some god. Though Mizushima guessed even Iceman didn't know.

"Stop messing around. You think I'd believe that?"

"Why would I lie to you now? I don't like to say this… but I was there when it happened." He didn't do it, but he saw the aftermath. In pieces, in jars, most parts frozen but some select pieces still kept unfrozen in order to be further used. Something Iceman should never have to know.

"What…" Iceman looked shocked. Mizushima dreaded what would happen if that sleeping god awoke. Who knew what it could do. But more importantly he had people still left to save. He needed to go.

"And… along the way to the surface, there are many security areas that cannot be opened. Please use #3510's master key. Your voiceprint has been registered. If you speak while having the key, any door will open for you." This last gift of his he had given to #3510, no Mikoto, truly sealed his fate. Not only was his name registered to the key, but Iceman's voiceprint on the computer could be traced back to him.

Mikoto rustled through her clothes, and brought out the key. "Yes… this is what the doctor gave to me." The key she had was something like a white bracelet. It was the only memento of his dead wife, lost so long ago.

"This is a key?" Iceman looked skeptical. It was to be expected. Mizushima's wife had worn it in her hair as an ornament. She enjoyed wearing it. It was a treasured keepsake, one of a kind.

"You might not think so, but yes. Make sure you don't lose it." Time's up for this discussion. The chaos was getting out of hand, soon lockdown would be initiated without his interference. Focus was needed. "We are running out of time. You must hurry"

Iceman heard the finality. He turned to Mikoto, and grabbed her hand. "Let's go Mikoto."

"Ah—" Mikoto looked back on last time.

"Farewell… Mikoto… my lovely daughter." He watched them through the screen as they disappeared out of the room, his heart heavy. If only.... but he didn't deal in ifs. No, he dealed with data, with scientific certainty, and with his head held high.


	9. Verse 8: Karma

**Verse 8**

Mizushima was running out of time too. Traceback in the system was slowly pinpointing where he was. It would still be a little while, maybe 45 minutes before they found this exact position. He was already remote-accessing his lab controls from another position. The security force also already knew it was him, and had found his first decoy.

45 Minutes was enough. All the maruta that could get away would, and he wouldn't be able to help those that had been driven insane, dismantled, or unable to live on the surface in some way.

That would be the best he could do. For 30 minutes he tirelessly helped all those he could, and clocked their pursuers. In the beginning, he fervently watched Iceman and Mikoto, but they escaped in less than 10 minutes. So he was able to direct his complete attention to helping the others. Most other maruta were near direct-elevator access to the surface, and therefore made it to the outside in 30 minutes, most of which were spent riding the elevator up or waiting for them to come back.

Finally, the time came. He had cut off control before it could be traced all the way back, but they still knew his general location. He had little time, so little time.

Mizushima brought up the recorder one last time, and began his last message.

"We… he…" he wasn't finding the words. "We… don't…" The words finally came, he just had to view it as a normal report, at least in the beginning. "We don't know what he is. The identity of the man we call Iceman is wrapped in mystery…" and he began relating everything that had happened up to that time. So many things had been found, had happened. Finally, he was able to say what he wanted to. "In the end, we never found out what that was. The thing we called Iceman. What was human but not human." Mizushima paused. "That is enough. That is something humans should not touch."

"But, my colleagues do not seem to understand. The mask he, Iceman wore. A thin filament 1 nanometer thick reaches into the brain and forms a mesh bypass. In the specimen, this allowed increases in thought processing and physical capability."

"If we could adapt it, in theory, we could strengthen our bodies with it." Why was he doing this recording at all? He already had another one set up, one that was a lot more scientifically sound.

"Yes, in theory. But reality was different. But they kept believing in it. And so they made a replica. To make it as close to the original, raw materials were used with the reinforced ceramic to make a compound. Minepolymer every 6 layers. The Odimestone core would be constructed using Halphas crystallization."

"But however close to the original, a replica is a replica. Although bypass 3061's function still remains undetermined. And one more thing. The age in which he, Iceman lived, such manufacturing did not exist. And the original which he wore came from millions of years before then. In other words, it was never created in the first place. It was natural… as if it were the bones of something—"

Mizushima paused again. Why was he doing this? There was something driving him that he couldn't see yet. "Is it karma? Even though warning bells rang in our minds, we could not help but want to know more. This might be humanity's last achievement." A loud clang and a muffled voice sounded through the room. "Oh, it seems they have noticed. They really seem frantic. Do they really want strong bodies that much?" No, this isn't it. This isn't about them, those inhuman people gathering around the room he was in. Then it had to be about himself. And suddenly, he knew exactly what he needed to say.

"In the end… my only regret is not being able to apologize to him. Iceman was really concerned about #63. Even though he shouldn't have known a thing about her. #63 was made from him, so perhaps there was some resonance. Not only #63, but all the maruta were made from him. But most especially #63, probably the closest thing to him that was ever produced." Mizushima clenched his eyes shut. "In other words, all the maruta are his sons and daughter. And we experimented on them. Especially the lead specimen #63… although she was sealed due to her potential being too high. She was dismantled except her brain... she must have been sad. She really loved her father." He unclenched his eyes. This pained him so much. And that was a good thing. "I didn't tell him about that. If I did, he would never forgive us, he would never forgive me. I don't think he should. Nor would I allow myself to ease my burden by apologizing. But…" And Mizushima sought the answer he had been missing. "I really wanted to."

"At least, maybe she will be happy—" before he could finish, the monitor displayed an error. He had been completely disconnected. So they had found him at last. Took them long enough. He had anticipated this, so his recording had been saved to a remote area as it was being recorded. And as one last precaution, he had put a genetic lock on it. Only Iceman's presence could allow it to be accessed or deleted. It was a shot in the dark, and Mizushima knew it was nearly impossible, but everything was worth a shot. Even those with little hope of occurring.

The door behind him began to spark. The search team had to cut through the door. Mizushima stood well away, at the far wall of the research room, and stood waiting. He knew who would be the first person into the room.

The door fell inward with a deafening clang. This was one of the rooms that was guarded against catastrophic system failure, and had an airtight 30cm thick steel door with multiple carbon reinforcements inserted. But little could stop determined people. Especially not something man-made.

A shape walked through the smoke over what was once the door. "Good morning, Mizushima." It materialized into a fat man he recognized all too well.

"Hello, Nicolai. Come to see me? How rare."

"Yes." Nicolai sneered. "And the council would love to see you too."


	10. Final Verse: Mizushima's Humanity

**Final Verse**

One of the first things a child learns is that they don't live on the surface of the world. Humans used to, but they live under it, because the surface has become bad.

Later, reasons are added. The first is easy to understand: germs. You will get really sick and die if you go to the surface. The second isn't as simple: air. Long before germs would kill you, if you directly breathed the air, it would get you. Why?

It isn't contaminated. There aren't any radioactive materials left. So why?

It has too much of many things.

Most trace gases were the same, and nitrogen was the same. Even Oxygen and CO2, Argon even, were all within the range allowable to humans. But, a few trace gases weren't. A debate was still ongoing exactly why this happened, but gasses such as CO and SO2 had much higher levels than normal.

How had that happened? Mizushima didn't know how. After all, he didn't take much interest in finding out why. He could vaguely remember various hypotheses involving volcanism, maybe the bombs, and various other reasons. Either way, it didn't matter anymore. The worst of the worst fates had been given to him.

He was exiled from the facility.

It didn't mean instant death. No, they weren't that nice. He was given a supply of air, some food, and kicked out. The air wouldn't last but a couple of days, and the food was only enough for a couple of days, at best. One last thing was given to him, a filter for the air. It would manage to clean the air of about half the monoxide, but only for about a week, gradually working worse and worse.

All this to force you to try to pitifully survive, if at least only a day longer. If somehow you could survive the air with the filter, the pathogens in the air would down you in the end. If you could stand the pathogens somehow long enough, the air would get you. No cases otherwise existed in this world, other than the maruta and Iceman. Even how they survived with the gasses was a biological mystery, something that replicating the mask gave but wasn't understood in the least.

So he was doomed. It was expected. But what wasn't…

**It was so beautiful…**

He had been to the surface once, a long time ago. He didn't remember much about what it looked like. His late wife had loved coming to the surface, and that was what eventually killed her. The surface had somewhat scared him then, but he saw now.

This was nature, the vibrant greens, towering canopies, the light sound of insects, the leaves crunching under the soles of his shoes, the sun shining down brilliantly between the trees. This is what humans had lost in their foolishness. This was something worth regaining. And even if only for a little while, he had attained it.

Mizushima wandered for a while in this wonderland. For that is what it was to him. So many things he had only seen in old videos and textbooks, never up close. Night came, and the sky was cloudless, so he saw the starry sky. So beautiful to him it was. Humans still had control over some satellites, but he had never gone. This was a glimpse of what they would see. Lucky…

"It seems I can withstand the pathogens, at least a little." Mizushima muttered. He hadn't gotten sick yet, after 2 days. He was relying on the filter, his air long used up, but it helped little. He was deathly sick from the air. The little he could move was spent eating a little, just to stay alive a little longer. He was leaning against one of the largest trees in the forest. Eventually even his food disappeared, and he felt the illness from bugs and the air come over him.

He was delirious… so he didn't know if they were really there, but sometimes he believed he saw someone, one of the maruta, looking at him. Sometimes 2 were staring at him. Finally, in one of his less delirious states, he called out to them.

"Hello. Who are you?" Curiosity won over one, or maybe some vestige of damned control over him, and the larger of the two came over. "Your number? "

"#3707." He shivered. But then his eyes grew wide. "You're the voice…"

All maruta had a small system built into them at birth. It included their ID, owner, tracker, and a small communications transceiver for commands. He had hacked the server for their messages prior to releasing them, and sent a general message detailing what was happening and what their options were.

"Ha…. –cough- you haven't gone far enough, you know." Mizushima had also told all those who chose to leave to get as far as possible from the base.

The maruta looked defiant. That was a good look for them to have. "But others came after us, so we helped them get away. Plus, Father told us to watch for signs of originals coming from the place."

"I'm not mad at you, nor do I control you any longer, and I won't try. After all, I am broken. Father, huh?" So Iceman already had the maruta believing in him. Only a few days, what a man. The charisma always shone through, but he hadn't expected it to happen this fast. Did something happen?

The second maruta had appeared closer when it saw Mizushima hadn't done anything to #3707, and was hiding behind him. He weakly smiled, trying to keep his sanity with his lungs burning and his gut twisting.

"So, what is your number, little one?" Mizushima was able to see it was a small child, maybe 5 years of age. It was scared, but still told him, in such a small voice.

"#3920"

#3920 was maybe 5, #3707 looked 15-17, and Mikoto was 20. All so young. What about the older ones forced to endure the servitude their entire lives just for being born? Mizushima coughed violently, blood in it. He was going fast. This must be his calm before the storm.

"Why did you free us? You and your friends all controlled us completely. I saw what some of the others were used for, so why? You had complete power. Why?"

#3707 had finally snapped at him, a former master. He couldn't stop yelling at Mizushima, letting out all the things he had wanted to yell at them, the scientists and torturers and slave drivers. On and on he yelled at Mizushima, until finally he couldn't yell any more, sobbing he was. He knew too much pain for how young he was. #3920 had long since begun crying. Too much. It was too much.

Mizushima waited until they cried themselves out, thinking over the answer, and how best to answer.

"Because, I was scared."

"Scared? Scared of what. You had everything!"

"Everything except humanity. We had all lost that along the way." Mizushima coughed, more blood coming up. The calm was breaking. He had a headache, dizziness. The filter wasn't helping much when he coughed.

The two maruta were standing in front of him, staring at him. #3707 finally spoke.

"I can't bring myself to forgive you. For too long you controlled us. But I heard about a nicer master, one of the leaders who didn't do as he pleased with us, and even praised us for doing things right and who didn't harm when they did things wrong."

Mizushima nodded. Yes, though he did it for different reasons, that could only be him. None of the others had even done part of that.

"And you set us free. I can't forgive you, but I can thank you for what you have done."

What a marvelous gift. Karma? One last concession from God?

#3920 spoke a few words quietly. "I don't know…" she paused. Mizushima could see that she was thinking hard, trying to come up with the right words. "I can forgive you." She was hiding behind #3707's back, so Mizushima could barely see her, but he could hear the warmth.

This was all unlooked for, but still the best thing that could happen under the circumstances. He could barely believe how lucky he must be. He didn't expect forgiveness nor thanks, but he got both. Mizushima began crying, the first time since he lost his wife.

"Hurry back to your Father, #3707 and #3920. No more maruta will escape. Being kicked out like this was proof. You must get as far away as possible, because they will be searching for all of you." Mizushima couldn't see anymore. His eyes were too teared up to see, but even if he could see through them, it would have been black. His vision was failing with the sickness. He only had a couple of hours left at best. "Get as far away as you can, find real name instead of numbers, and don't let yourselves be captured in their horrific slavery ever again!" The two began running away, and he was coughing violently again. He couldn't see it, but he could feel his body breaking.

He breathed in the air unfiltered, and thought it was just so ironic to die of oxygen deprivation, SO2 poisoning, and sickness in this glorious air. Death by CO poisoning isn't beautiful. But still, Mizushima never thought "I wish I hadn't ever done that."

Because this was his price to be human again.

* * *

**Thanks!**

And so, Mizushima was forever cursed to haunt the land, his.... no, really!

Alright, so it's over. My long "battle" with this story has finally come to a crawl. It's been fun, and I was right. Coming back after months of not even thinking about it has given it a fresh feeling. I'm able to halfway look at it as if somebody else wrote it and critique it from that angle. However, it's definitely not perfect. Weird grammer that isn't easy to understand, spelling errors, or continuity errors in the story itself are all possible.

Since this is the smaller sister-story to Forgotten Verses, it will also need to fit in perfectly with the relevant period of time in FV, and therefore I might still make a few changes later on. But for now, it's considered completed. Thanks for those who read it, and please review it!


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